Page 50 of Wrapped Up in Christmas Hope
“Nothing,” he answered. “If you’re six.”
“I’ll be six on my next birthday.”
“When’s that?” Andrew asked.
Greyson told him. “I want a firefighter-themed birthday party.”
“Maybe I can bring the fire truck by for your friends to see at your party.”
“Wow. That would be great.”
The two chatted back and forth, talking about the birthday party, the motorcycle, and a zillion other things.
“I want to sit on Bertha,” Morgan said.
Two wide sets of male eyes turned to her.
“What?”
Goodness. What had she done? She didn’t want to sit on the motorcycle. Why had she said she did?
“You want to sit on my motorcycle?” Andrew asked.
“It’s not scary, Mommy,” Greyson said, climbing down and patting the leather seat.
It had been a long time since she’d sat on a motorcycle, but she had ridden one before. With Trey.
Memories assailing her, she straddled the motorcycle and wrapped her fingers around the handlebars. There. She’d done it. She’d conquered a fear. No, it wasn’t running, but she’d gotten on the bike. That counted.
“I...can I start it?”
Greyson’s eyes were huge. Andrew’s, too.
“Uh, sure.” Andrew glanced at Greyson. “Can I get you to watch from the porch, bud? Bertha is loud.”
Greyson looked a little disappointed but didn’t argue. Probably because he thought his mom had flipped her lid.
He was right. No way would she be on this motorcycle otherwise.
“Is it okay if I sit with you?” Andrew asked, eyeing her curiously.
She didn’t blame him for being worried, so she nodded.
When he was behind her, he started explaining how the bike worked—lessons Trey had already given her years ago. Morgan grinned at the prospect of surprising Andrew, then stood up and kick-started the bike. It roared to life. Sitting down, she clenched the handlebars with clammy hands.
Andrew leaned in close to her ear. “You’ve done this before.”
“Yes.”
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? You want to take her for a spin?” he asked.
Greyson would never forgive her if she went for a ride when he wasn’t allowed to. But she really didn’t want to go for a ride. She’d just needed to sit on the bike to prove to herself that she could.
She shook her head. “I just want to sit here,” she yelled back over the noise and then did just that, sitting on the bike, her eyes closed as she let memories assail her. Once upon a time, she’d loved riding behind Trey on his street bike. A single tear ran down her cheek, but she didn’t swat it away, just gripped the handlebar tighter. She’d done it. She’d gotten on the motorcycle, started it, felt the motor purr beneath her.
Andrew sat behind her. His body was warm against her back as he blocked the wind. He kept his hands on his thighs, letting her grip the handlebars alone.
Taking a deep breath, she turned off the engine, then dismounted the bike.
